


Once a Thief

by tinkertoysdamn



Series: Dutyverse [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Identity Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkertoysdamn/pseuds/tinkertoysdamn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flipside of “Duty Before All.”Twenty years worth of feelings would be difficult for anyone to bear, let alone Jean Valjean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once a Thief

Was it possible for relief to feel so liberating and so toxic?Valjean released the breath he was holding, letting all his fear and anxiety free with it.He could keep his position, this life he had carved out for himself.He could continue giving aide to those in need, could continue bolstering the prosperity of this little town, could keep his promise to Fantine and could hold onto Javert.Of all these desires, Valjean knew that the last was the most selfish.

Javert did not arrive at Toulon until Valjean had nearly served the terms of his original sentence.Jean-the-Jack would never have met the young man if he had kept his head down and stayed quiet.But Valjean had never been a particularly clever man and the opportunities for escape had been too tempting. So it was that time was added and year-by-year Valjean lost a bit more of himself to the grim darkness of the galleys.

In prison, one of the few entertainments the prisoners had was in observation.When the lights had dimmed or the food was served they would murmur secrets about themselves, new prisoners or the men who watched them.Javert quickly became Valjean’s favorite topic, although he kept this to himself.

He wasn’t certain when he first became aware of this new guard.The first impression hadn’t been notable except for the man’s youth.Javert’s face, though stern and searching was also too new, too fresh for a proper growth of whiskers.He had attempted a beard in the first month but resolved to be clean-shaven when it came in patchy and ridiculous.

Although the beard incident was amusing, it was not what made Valjean stand up and take notice.Valjean’s leg had been irritated more than usual but he had worked through the discomfort, full well knowing the consequences of stopping.One day, his strength failed him and he had been overcome with pain.He fell over and was unable to rise, even when the guard had begun to beat him.Valjean had just taken a kick to the stomach when someone pulled the guard off him.

“What’s this now?” the newcomer asked.

“24601 refuses to do his work.”

Valjean kept his eyes on the ground and bit his lip; he would not look up and receive another blow for cursing the guard.

He felt someone kneel beside him and yank up the leg of his pants.The newcomer snorted in disgust.“His leg is infected, you fool.He should be in the infirmary.”

Valjean could hear the anger in the other’s voice.“You can’t order me around, child.”

“Then you can tell the captain how his strongest prisoner ended up in the grave because of your lack of foresight.”There was no threat in the voice, just an even statement of fact.

Valjean risked raising his eyes.The newcomer was Javert, and though he was small compared to the brutish other guard, his glare was easily cowing the other man.

“Fine,” the guard relented.“But you’re taking him.I won’t risk it.”

Javert gave him a curt nod.“24601 is a brute, but he’s not stupid.Are you 24601?”

Valjean started in surprise at being addressed at all.“No, sir,” he said.

Within moments he was unchained and propped up into a standing position.Brief thoughts of escape filtered through his mind but were quickly dampened by the pain.Javert slipped himself under Valjean’s arm and the two of them made their way to the infirmary.

Javert said not a word to him, just helped the convict hobble along, acting as nothing more than a living crutch.Was it the fact that someone was assisting him that affected Valjean so?Or was it the feel of the strong, lithe body pressed against him, a touch that lacked malice or force?Valjean had not had someone touch him with anything but violence in years.

Even when he was free Valjean had never tasted the flesh of women and the men of the prison held no interest to him; but this young man in his pressed uniform and with his stern countenance sparked something deep within him he had never felt.

He knew it was foolish to wish for Javert to visit him in the infirmary, but it did not keep Valjean from hoping.It was a faint and delicate thing but Valjean nourished it all the same, a small part of him simply grateful to feel anything other than anger.When he had recovered from his wound, Javert was there to escort him back to work.

It was hardly a joyous reunion, but the firm hand on his back and the brush of fingers as the ankle chain was replaced filled Valjean with a perverse enjoyment.From then on he was more engaged in prison life.He did not speak with the other prisoners often, but it was more than he had done before and now he watched and listened with curiosity to their fumbling activities in the dark.

He only knew a little of what was done between a man and a woman but he was slowly learning the mechanics of how a man could please another man.Valjean did receive offers of a more direct education but he declined, his interest was held for only one man.

In the night when the lights had been snuffed out, Valjean would lay on his wooden bed thinking of the things he had heard about and of the first hand knowledge he would like to have.On the way to the infirmary was a storage room, poorly lit and filled with barrels and supplies.The goods made it difficult to hear anything from the outside and the entrance was too dark to see anything from the hall.These conditions made it perfect for Valjean’s fantasies.

Some of the scenarios started with Javert shoving him into the room but most of them were of Valjean making the first move.Some times he was gentle, other times he was rough but how Valjean went always depended on the stresses of that day.He even indulged in thoughts of hitting Javert or forcing him to do what he wanted but in the end they left Valjean unsatisfied and guilty.

Javert was never kind, but he was fair.When other guards would find an excuse to use their fists or their cudgels he would step in unless the punishment was truly warranted.Valjean could not see himself raising his fists against such a man.He could, however, easily imagine pinning Javert to the wall, using his strength to lift the younger man up and fuck him.The thought of Javert clinging to him and whispering his name, his real name and not a number, usually sent him over the edge.

The years passed and Valjean continued to bend under the weight of the work and the weight of the lash.Javert just seemed to stare straight ahead, keeping his now whiskered face high above the scum he supervised.They continued to watch each other, Javert to keep his charge on the straight and narrow, Valjean to fuel the tired flames of his desires.

After he received his parole, Valjean was too focused on survival to think of Javert and with the Bishop’s gift and forgiveness he strove to make himself a new man.Five years later, he was the mayor of a small town, well liked, successful, wealthy, and lonely. Valjean told himself it was for the best, it was penance for his crimes.He could give aide and succor to others and take nothing for himself.It was proper, it was true; it was what the Bishop would have wanted.

Then one morning Javert appeared.Valjean had never expected to experience temptation again so seeing the younger man was like a slap in the face.He was polite and attempted to keep his distance but Javert was always there, either prattling on about town business or dissecting him with a stare, as if he knew that Monsieur le Maire was keeping secrets.

So Valjean gave in, he invited Javert over to his home, to share his bread.Valjean told himself he was keeping his friends close and his enemies closer but it was the basest of lies; just another sin to add to his burden.

The first time was rough, rougher than Valjean had intended.He had been betrayed by his lack of experience and the terror of Javert’s fingers on his chest.If Javert had not been so responsive, so willing, Valjean might have been able to stop.At least this was the pretty lie he told himself though it did not ease his conscience at all.

Valjean had wanted this life to be enough, for his good deeds to be enough but he was only a man.He was not an angel, he was not a saint, and he was certainly not Bishop Myreil.But was it so wrong for Valjean to have one thing for himself?He had spent so many years atoning for his crimes, living by the will of God and the words of a kindly man that he had so little for himself.

That was why he told himself he could be a thief one last time.What he stole was not bread nor silver but the trust Javert was willing to give to another man, one who did not exist.

A cough scattered his thoughts.Valjean blinked and was startled to see Javert still standing there.The Mayor had been so lost in the past he had forgotten the present.

“Excuse me, Monsieur le Maire,” Javert said, his back was straight but his head was slightly bowed, “I am still awaiting my dismissal.”

“What dismissal?”

Javert hunched his shoulders and kept his eyes focused on the ground.“I have abused my position as an Inspector of the Police.Are you going to dismiss me or not?”

Valjean shook his head.“You were following your suspicions and doing your duty.I see no need to dismiss you from your post.”His heart was full and the future held too much promise.Valjean had nothing to fear anymore.

“But Sir, I committed a sin against you and most atone for it,” Javert insisted. The line of Javert’s body was trembling with tension, his eyes pleading.He was a man filled with a passion ready to burst.“I suspected you of being a convict, a common criminal.”

Valjean couldn’t hide his smile; with luck Javert would never know how right he had been.

“I have used my authority to do a great harm,” the Inspector continued, getting more and more agitated.

All that stood between Valjean and a lifetime was freedom was the conviction of an innocent man.He flinched and squelched the thought before it could fester.He could ignore it for now but when he was alone it would infect him with the fever of guilt.

Finally Javert raised his voice, “I need to be punished!”

In the dark of the night Valjean would be driven mad by Champmathieu, by the thought of sending a man he had never met to a life in chains.As the stars came out they would remind him of the freedoms he would deny another in exchange for his own.But at this moment, in this office, in his own tiny palace of power he had other men on his mind.

Valjean went to the door of his office and clicked the lock.

“I’m certain we can think of something.”


End file.
